


Haunted House

by HalfshellVenus



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Community: 60_minute_fics, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:49:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the title says...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 60_minutes_fics challenge on "Haunted House," and posted here now for archiving.

~*~

"Good god, why are all the lights on in here? I didn't know we _had_ this many lights in the lab. Turn them off—I'll confess."

"Watch it—they might be listening." House motioned Wilson over to join him in the corner. He was armed with a sandwich and his cane.

"God, that smells _foul_. What _is_ it?"

"Who cares—it has garlic." He raised his voice. "You hear that? Garlic! So don't get any ideas!"

"So, how many Vicodin have you had today?" Wilson asked conversationally.

"I'm not drugged, you idiot—I'm being followed by ghosts."

"Of course you are." Wilson surveyed the lab, but all of House's baby doctors appeared to be absent. "Where're the kids? You give the sitter the night off?"

"Who, Cuddy? For all I know she's one of them—the Administrative Undead."

"Right," Wilson sighed. "Wait—are you trying out an LSD experiment again?"

"No! You're not listening—I'm being _haunted_."

"By invisible, silent things, sure. Won't be the first time." Wilson checked his watch. "Well, I've got clinic duty. Have fun."

"You can't leave me here! One of them tried to trip me in my office!"

"Probably just a lump in that blood-stained chunk of carpet you had Cuddy put back. It's your own fault."

"What about the voices in the hallways?"

"Patients? Staff? This _is_ a hospital—it's full of people. Some of them might actually want to talk to _you,_ though god knows why they'd bother." Wilson headed for the door.

"I see dead people…"

"So stop hanging out at the morgue."

"Where's your sense of compassion?"

"I think you ran it over with your motorcycle last winter."

"Don't tell me the arm coming down out of the ceiling doesn't bother you!"

"Fine, I'll keep it to myself then."

House stopped for a moment, his eyes narrowing at Wilson. " _You_ brought me my coffee this morning…"

"And _you_ cost me a date with that redhead from radiology."

House's words were muffled by the closing door, but clear enough to understand: "You're not as nice as people think you are!"

"You're right," Wilson shouted back, smothering a grin.

_C'est la vie, House. You never learn…_

 

_\-------- fin --------_


End file.
